


Watercolour Scars

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Series: When Icarus Met The Sun [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: Despite fighting against Iron Man, Bucky didn't actually know Tony. Even then, he didn't know how he was the only one starstruck. He couldn't imagine the kind of miracles she must have pulled off before for the team to not even thank her.





	Watercolour Scars

Despite fighting against Iron Man, Bucky didn't actually know Tony. Even then, he didn't know how he was the only one starstruck. He couldn't imagine the kind of miracles she must have pulled off before for the team to not even thank her. 

"Welcome back to New York." 

He felt ashamed to meet her eyes. 

She was in a beautiful business-casual outfit. Dark wash navy skinny jeans tucked into black leather boots, a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows fashionably, a blue-black slim tie snug to her throat disappearing into a dark blue tartan suit vest with gold buttons to match her belt buckle. There wasn't a hair out of place, even though it was loose about her shoulders. Her makeup was pristine and her smile was perfectly placid. Her nails were cut even and short, the nailbeds clean and her skin smooth without a hint of engine grease. The blue glow of the Arc Reactor was well-disguised by her choices and colours. 

"You all know where your rooms are. Everything's stocked up, so go nuts. As for you, Mr. Barnes, JARVIS will use the lights on the floor to show you to your room and give you a tour of all the common floor's amenities." She clapped her hands together, smile a little more strained as she moved past them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a bunch of meetings Pepper will kill me if I miss. Make yourselves at home."

He watched her go, unconsciously reaching up to touch his shoulder, where he was missing the familiar weight of metal. The others began to disperse, but he just couldn't move. He didn't know - did the others just not see it? Did they not see the way her eyelids blinked lethargically, betraying the fact that she was awake past the limits of her body? Did they not see the carefully concealed ring of red around her waterline, the mark of eyes cried dry? Even if they did, he didn't get how they could let her leave. After all the work, all the trouble she got in to save people who tried to kill her . . . 

_"Mr. Barnes?"_

He jumped at the soft voice, taking a moment to reconcile with the fact he was now alone in the foyer of the common floor and the voice echoing from every angle was Tony's A.I. butler, JARVIS. "Sorry. Yes?"

_"Sir has requested that I give you a full tour of the parts of the Tower accessible to you and inform you of all the things at your disposal. I will show you your room first and should you feel the need to rest, we can resume the tour whenever you are ready."_

"Okay." He ducked a little, looking up dubiously at the ceiling. "Thank you?"

_"You're very welcome. Please, follow the blue indicator lights along the baseboards and I will lead you to your room."_

* * *

He awoke with a start, his skin crawling with phantom frost. He panicked when he didn't hear the  _whirr_  of his arm, holding the stump in a crushingly tight grip as his heart calmed down. 

The silence and the stillness rubbed against his nerves like a cocktail of sandpaper and glass shards. He was out of bed and stumbling down the hallway before he could think of it, blindly following the quietly illuminated baseboards. He found himself coming into the kitchen, a vast open space with floor-to-ceiling windows letting in the New York midnight skyline and the moonlight. Soft lights under the cupboards provided enough illumination to see Tony standing over a cup of coffee at the island, blankly staring at it. 

She snapped up to the sound of him clipping the doorframe. She seemed to sense something he wasn't aware enough to understand and rushed to his side, catching him and dragging him down to the couch in the recessed living room. She pressed his sweat-cold palm over her heart, the beat steady and timely. His skin tingled where it touched the raw power encased in metal sticking out from her chest. 

"James."

Shakily, he pulled his eyes from the glowing device and met her gaze. Ebony eyes caught and held him. Her other hand reached up to cup his cheek, her presence surprisingly strong and grounding, like she possessed a gravity all her own. 

"You're going to listen to me, okay, James?"

He couldn't manage words or even a nod. His hand spasmed on her chest. 

"Feel that?" She pressed his hand tighter against her. "You can feel that, right?"

His mouth opened, trying to reply. 

"It's okay. Don't force yourself. Don't speak if you can't." Slowly, carefully, she got onto his lap, leaning forwards to press small, soothing kisses on ever bit of his face she could reach except his mouth. Her thumb rubbed at the underside of his jaw, rhythmic, and her fingers were pressing lightly into his hairline - enough to reassure without triggering. 

His gaze fell on the Reactor, fully exposed now with the drifting of her tank top, and he was lost in it. Something about the light has him in its clutches and e felt the haze of his mind ebb away, replaced slowly and steadily with intrigue, curiosity. His thumb dragged itself over to the metallic barrier and pressed against it, like someone exhausted trying to climb up a wall. 

She pulled back and looked down, catching onto his train of thought from seemingly nowhere. 

"There's shrapnel in my chest." She said, voice low and soothing. "It edges closer and closer to my heart. This little thing stops it. A self-sustaining energy source that powers the electromagnet and pacemaker in my chest. I underwent very severe cardiac arrest during the operation and it did damage that isn't really repairable yet. They could remove the shrapnel now that I'm back in the States, but . . . I don't trust anyone. The whole idea would be to be able to remove the Reactor. It helps me a lot, but it has a lot of its own problems. I don't trust anyone to take it from me. I'm afraid to let it go. As much of a pain in the ass as it is, it's a part of me now."

" . . . ow- . . . ow- . . . how . . . work?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "There's an elemental metal I made in a little triangle in the center of the casing. The element itself generates electricity from the fierce vibration of the particles against one another. They're not hot to the touch, though. Otherwise, the metal it is would melt. I've got a special clasp for it inside the Reactor to hold it in place. Once there, copper wires funnel the power away to start the power reaction process. What that means is that it transmutes the raw energy into viable electricity to power the magnet and pacemaker inside my body. There are adapters, though, at the three prongs of the triangle that distribute energy outwards when they're connected. Like tiny power sockets. That's how the Reactor powers my suits and why they can only be used by me."

He hadn't even realized she'd been pulling him down during her monologue. His face was on her chest now, staring unblinkingly at the tiny, miraculous machine. She was on her back, petting through his hair. It took him a moment to regain a sense of his body and only then did he realize that his heart was now in sync with the one under his palm, both now powered by that tiny nestle of blue light between her breasts. 

" . . . m- . . . mou- . . . more?"

Her fingers dragged pleasantly along his scalp. "Alright. I'll tell you about the specifics of what it takes to turn the power of Starkirium into electricity. Firstly, you have to understand that raw energy comes in many different forms . . . "

* * *

Bucky woke up to the inquisitive eyes of Vision.

"I still know very little, in the grand scheme of life. However, I do think it is best for you to move off Miss Stark before the Captain sees you here."

He blinked weakly, trying to orient himself. If felt like he was coming out from deep-freeze, the kind where he'd been left for decades. For some reason, his muscles were stiff and loathe to move. He just wanted to rest here, sleep some more, retain this calm he didn't know or understand, but liked nonetheless.

"Please." Vision tried again. "Mr. Rogers and Sir have been at odds lately and I do not wish to cause her undo stress."

The words took a minute to completely register, then he could feel it in the side of his face - there was metal digging into his cheekbone that shouldn't be. Removing his hand from under his face, he pushed himself up, taking a long and confused look at the woman underneath him.

Tony Stark. He'd forgotten - the memories, the panic attack, his loss of control. She'd talked him down with jargon about her Reactor. Somewhere along the lines, he must have fallen asleep on her. 

"Don't worry about it, Vision."

His gaze shifted and the face of Pepper caught him. She gave a polite smile, walking towards them with a briefcase. 

"Miss Potts." Vision greeted. 

Pepper nodded in return, sitting herself down on the armrest. She reached down and stroked Tony's eyebrows smooth. Tony herself made a little whine, the arm he hadn't realized was on his back, pulling him back down. The other hand, on his neck, resettled him on her chest. 

Pepper chuckled softly. "You know, this was the thing I fell in love with."

He remained still, not knowing what to do, but knowing that his body, at least, wanted to stay here. 

"I loved watching Tony sleep. Not that it was often - she barely sleeps and even then, its done under duress - but it made he love her all the more. She's so gentle and young like this, a peace on her that doesn't exist when she's awake. I feel bad so much of the time for not being the kind of person she needs, the kind of person she would need in a lover. I thought she might try Rhodey one day, but she told me that he was uninterested in her from the beginning. I know what you know, Vision, but what do you know about her, James?"

"She's brilliant, a genius." He replied, again without thought. "I don't understand why everyone hates her so much."

"Everyone wants a chunk out of her, definitely." Pepper frowned softly, her thoughts awash with images of Obadiah. "Anything else?"

"She makes things. Like the suits." He replied, diligently. "Not much else, though. Aside from observed things, anyway." He didn't know what kind of answer she was looking for.

"Like what kind of observed things?"

"Like how hot she likes her coffee, the way she dresses it up, the different meanings of her hairstyles."

"I think hanging out with her is a good idea. After all, nothing will make Steve less obtuse than you, and if you two get close, Steve will have no choice but to come around."

"I don't think he'll ever sign the Accords."

"That's not what I mean. The Accords are trivial and Tony had them all changed up and remade anyway. I know she wants the team whole again - she doesn't want anyone to feel like a stranger and that's exactly what's happening with the family she started in the Avengers."

"You think she could forgive me?" He whispered it, but Pepper was sharper than he gave her credit for. 

"She already has. Exhaustion mixed with heavy emotional weariness on top of the reveal of her parents' deaths . . . I don't think its unreasonable for her to crack under all that. There is plenty of strain and stress in her regular life with the machine in her chest and the duty to perform; being a hero, caring for her team and doing her best to save them from death and/or prison just adds a whole new layer, wouldn't you say?"

"She was protecting Stevie? When?"

"She wanted him to sign the Accords to prevent him from becoming a public blame figure. She's already shouldering the responsibility for Ultron - she doesn't want anyone else to have issues being the friendly, approachable people you are. She wanted him to stay safe, protected." Her brow furrowed, worried over angry. "What's happened has happened and Tony's never been one to let herself stew in old problems."

"How . . . What could I do?" He murmured, cocking his head at the woman underneath him. 

"Ask her to help fix up her cars is as good an ice breaker as you'll get with her." Pepper stood then, motioning for Vision to follow her. "Try to make some lemonade out of that."

* * *

Against Vision's advice, he stayed with her until she woke up. She hadn't made a big deal out of it, asking little, knowing questions about his mental state and how steady he felt. 

"I know panic attacks and PTSD flares aren't exactly predictable, but its a good thing if you can recover from them well."

He nodded, weakly grateful. "Thank you, Tony."

She waved a hand, dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Barnes."

Idly, he rubbed the stump of his arm. Her eyes tracked the movement, but he was grateful that she didn't say anything about it. He always got beatings when he developed ticks or habits outside those mission-essential. 

"You can-" He stared down at his lap, clearing his throat. "You can call me Bucky. If you want."

She gazed over at him and he felt unworthy. "Isn't that something special between you and Steve, though? You don't have to make exceptions for me out of some misplaced guilt or anything."

He huffed a laugh. "After everything that I did? Everything you did to help Steve and me? What kind of ungrateful bastard do you think I am?"

She cracked a smile at that, perching her elbows on her knees more casually. "Despite what Steve thinks, I do actually care. More than is safe, I think sometimes." She looked down and it was too demure, to meek to be seen on someone as vibrant and powerful as Tony. "I'm not stupid, either. I know they must have used some sort of physical torture to induce a trance-like state of nearly-perfect control. Clint also told me that you have memory loss, so I imagine they did something to induce that as well on the off chance you ran into someone you knew and were tempted to spare them. People like my parents, who could have and would have helped you."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

She shook her head. "I've been without them since I was seventeen. I got over them once, I'm capable of doing it a second time. I guess it just reseals the scar neater than before. It's irrelevant now."

"I remember all of them."

She glanced over at him to let him know she was listening but looked away again to give him the space he needed to find the words. 

"The more time between the wipes, the freeze and the words seems to give me back more of myself. I still don't . . . fully recall James Barnes. He's like another part of me that I can see through dirty water on the other side of a glass wall - his life is like something that happened to someone else. But I know all the faces, names, locations of everyone I killed for HYDRA. I remember the faces, names, locations of all the people who gave me those orders. I remember killing all of them, intimately, graphically. But even then, I remember them the way a passenger remembers a car crash - I was never piloting myself. I moved without my own consent, did without heeding my own thoughts, even when I could think. It used to take the entire travel time to have a mission sink in sometimes because it felt like I was trying to think through fire. Whoever I am now regrets it - the people I killed, good or bad as they may have been, losing the life of James Barnes. I'm so lost and I don't know what to do."

"I spent three months in a cave in Afghanistan." She spoke at length. "I was in the country to do a missile presentation, a brand new product I called the  _Jericho_. On each stand, there were three rockets. Each rocket fired individually. One the main rocket reached its maximum altitude, twenty-five payloads would discharge from it, each carrying a payload of twenty-five tonnes. The demonstration wiped out the whole side of a mountain. The terrorist group that kidnapped me wanted me to make that for them. Make it to use against the nation I was supposed to be making weapons for. Trapped in that cave with me, though, was a man named Yinsen." Her throat caught in a way that said she'd never mentioned him to anybody. "He's the reason I'm still alive today. He was the one who did the surgery to put the electromagnet in my chest. He helped me create the Mark I to escape the cave and he ran ahead to his death to buy me time to power up the suit. He had told me that I'd met him at a gala or something in 1999, but I was so drunk that night I don't even remember he name of the hotel it was in. I wish I did. I wish I had of actually spoken to Yinsen before. I wish I had of known him outside the hell-hole that cave was. I wish . . . I could have given him back everything he gave me. But I'll never be able to. My machines and weapons took the lives of his family and his own, in the end. Everyone he knew died because of me. Yinsen is someone that will haunt my dreams until the day I die. I used to dodge sleep to make sure I got down an idea or to sleep with someone or to gave a good time or whatever. Now, I don't sleep because I see his face, hear the gentle way he spoke to me, as if my life was actually worth preserving. I wake up in cold sweats and tears and my chest hurts so much I can't breathe."

Not knowing what to do, he laid his head down on her shoulder. She gave a little, wet laugh and pat his thigh. 

"I live my life now making sure that when I die, he won't be disappointed with me. I live now to make sure that people like him are the ones who survive, the ones who get away to safety and live out their days in peace. If that costs me my life, then it does. I won't ever make up for it."

"Neither will I."

"The only thing we can do now is try. Do our damnedest to save as many other people as possible from the same fate." She squeezed his knee. 

"I'm still sorry."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be. I'll carry the guilt and blame for Ultron until I die and it will plague my soul even past that." She took a deep breath. "But that doesn't mean we can stop trying. Once you stop trying to be good, to do the right thing, you are part of the crime." She reached up and touched his cheek gently. Her fingers felt nice on his scruff. "When you have the power to stop something from happening, but don't . . . you're part of the monster too."

He slumped into her more, closing his eyes to fight back the tears. Her cheek pressed over the crown of his head.

"Will you keep trying with me?"

His throat had closed on him, so he gave a jerky nod instead.

"Then there's nothing between us anymore."

"W-What?"

She sighed, turning a little and cupping his face with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. Warm black met suffering blue, but her strength was enough to keep him together. "I forgive you, Bucky."

For the first time since Sarah Rogers died, he  _cried_.

* * *

Slowly, life with Tony had changed. Weeks after sobbing into her shoulder for two hours, he had approached her in the early hours of the morning and asked her, tentitively, if he could help her fix her cars. 

She had said yes.

They spent day after day in her garage, her teaching him the differences between each engine, all the basic parts and what they did. She had another engine hoisted out of a car that she let him mess around with, showing him how everything fit together and what it all did. Once, Vision had even come down to make sure they were still okay. It was then JARVIS had informed them they had been between the garage and lab for the better part of a fortnight. 

A month after that, she called him down to the lab. 

JARVIS let him in and led him to the workbench. He diligently sat there until Tony walked in a few minutes later. She had an uncommonly grave expression on. She sauntered around the workbench and perched there, just beyond his reach, before dropping a familiar brown leather-bound book on the clean surface. 

His gaze snapped back up to hers, terrified. 

"Pretty much every high-ranking official in the world owes me favours." She started, taking a deep breath. "I am entirely fluent in ten different languages, not the least of which is Russian."

He swallowed, eyes flickering around the room like he was considering which way was best to bolt to. He knew, though, that he would never escape here. A place that was meant to keep people out did just as good a job keeping them in. 

She sighed again, running a hand through her loose hair. "I read it entirely, including the instructions."

His eyes went wide, snapping back to her. His hand flexed, trembling in horror. "You know the words."

"I do. And I know everything about your missions for the Red Room before you were given over to the American division of HYDRA." Slowly, as to not startle him, she leaned forwards and pushed the book closer to him. "Which is why I'm giving this to you."

"Why?"

"Zemo is very tight-lipped, but not smarter than me. I found out where he'd been, his stashes. In one of them was this little notebook. No one else knows about this. I didn't submit any of it to the DOJ, the UN, none of it. This book and all of its knowledge are between you and I." Her eyes were hard, but in a difficult way that affection often was. "I'm giving it to you to do with as you see fit. Keep it, give it back to me, hide it, burn it - whatever you've gotta do, do it. There isn't a person in this world who deserves to have their right to choose forcefully taken from them, let alone know that somewhere, there's a detailed roadmap to do just that. I'm giving you back your choice."

Something like grief but swelling like anger took hold of his chest, compressing it like he'd been hit by a truck. "I want it gone."

She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a book of matches. She lit one and passed it to him. "Don't worry. The lab is fire-proof."

She kept handing him matches until the ashes were black with heat and there was nothing left of the paper or the leather or the godforsaken words.

* * *

_"Mr. Barnes?"_

He jumped, but managed to refrain from pulling out his knife and launching it at the ceiling this time. "JARVIS?"

_"Sir is requesting your presence in her workshop."_

"Oh." Steve gave him a sideways look, but he ignored it and stood, walking away to meet Tony.

"You think she's got some kind of mind magic?" Sam questioned blithely from Steve's other side. 

"What makes you think that?"

"You can't tell me you don't notice how he jumps to attention whenever Tony's involved." Sam raised an eyebrow. 

Wanda, from another couch, looked like she had a comment ready to fire off, but Vision's hand on her knee stopped her. 

"You do not know what you're going to say." He said softly, meaning buried in the depths of his eyes. "Please. Don't say something you'll regret."

"It does not matter to me if she hears." Wanda retorted.

"It is not about her hearing." Vision implored. "Once you say it, there is no way to take it back."

She snorted. "If it will appease you, then."

Clint, reclining with his head on Natasha's lap, passed a lazy eye over her. "Tony as a person is very different from Tony as an icon."

"I've seen nothing but self-service." Wanda snapped back

Clint didn't bother to banter, looking up at Natasha instead. "You know, she actually did fix the tractor."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The entire thing. Even fixed the weird front wheel."

"I should go check on them." Steve said, finally. 

 _"That is unwise, Captain Rogers._ " The lilting voice of JARVIS commanded.  _"If they require assistance, I will inform you."_

* * *

It was so  _nice_. 

"You're so good at this."

She shrugged, gingerly running the straight razor across his cheek. "I used to do this for Rhodey when we were in MIT together. I haven't done it in a long time, though, so don't move too much."

He repressed a chuckle and a smile, giving her a thumbs-up instead. 

"Hmm." She made a considerate sound in the back of her throat. "We need to do something about that."

"About what?"

"Your arm."

"I can't even keep one arm?"

She chortled at that, like he hoped she would, but shook her head. "That one's all yours. The replacement for the one you're missing should be a Stark model."

"You think?"

She hummed again, nudging him to sit up, head between her legs. "Okay. How do you want your hair? Just a trim?"

"I . . . don't know?" He arched his neck to look back at her. "What do you think?"

"I like the long, personally, but this isn't about me."

"Maybe a straight cut trim again?"

"Can I add little bangs to frame your face?"

"If you think it'll look good."

"If it doesn't, doesn't really matter. Your hair grows like a weed anyway. I swear, we do this every week."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Her smile was unexpectedly soft, careful fingertips running over a clean-shaven cheek. 

"I love it when you smile."

She blinked, surprised. "Huh?"

"Your eyes twinkle and your face warms so beautifully." Without thinking, his hand reached up and echoed hers, thumb stroking along the ridge of her cheekbone, then down her jaw. "To be fair, I thought you were lovely even before this. Stressed, upset and torn and still riveting. I'm glad I don't see you like that anymore."

Her lips quirked up, self-depreciation echoing through. "You know, if you want something, there's no need to sweet-talk me. If there was, Rogers would never get anything out of me."

A brilliant grin broke out across his face. "Yeah. Steve never was much of a charmer with the ladies."

"And you?"

He shrugged. "I was smoother, definitely. Had my fair share of admirers. What about you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I'll make all of your Fourties sensibilities upset."

He cast her a deadpan look. "After all the shit HYDRA did to me and made me do, I doubt I'll balk at anything you've done sexually."

She raised an eyebrow. "Point, Bucky."

He snorted a laugh, but stilled when she went back to shaving him. 

"I've had hundreds of partners, men and women alike." She said, pointedly not looking at him. "I've only had two solid, actual relationships, though. The first was in MIT with a man named Tiberius Stone, who I was with until I was seventeen."

"Isn't MIT a university? What were you doing there?"

She paused. What a strange sensation - someone who didn't already know the answer to that question, had no judgments or biases on her. "I'm highly intelligent. I skipped a lot of grades and entered MIT as a prodigy, full scholarship."

His eyes narrowed. "How old were you?"

"Thirteen."

"Christ." He sighed heavily, slumping back. "I was still pulling pigtails at thirteen, chasing other boys with handfuls of mud."

She shrugged. "I grew up very different from you and Steve. I think I grew up different from pretty much everyone."

"Still. You're amazing." Such a shine in the blue there, genuine and unobstructed. For all the damage HYDRA did to him, beating lying out of him was perhaps the only good thing to come of his time there. "You're so amazing."

"You'll make me blush if you keep it up."

"I can't imagine you're not immune to them by now. I imagine every time you go somewhere, you have to wade though compliments just to order a drink."

She sniffed. "I'm not a fan of shallow comments on my appearance. They don't really count as compliments to me."

"Then what does?"

"Sincerity, for one thing." She replied, reaching over to clean off the straight razor. "Pepper's good with hair and makeup, the only thing that hides all this age the Avengers is putting on me."

He choked on his laugh in disbelief. "Age? Are you calling yourself old?"

"I'm fourty-three, Buckaroo." Her gaze was critical. "Outside your time in an ice bucket, you're not even thirty."

"Please. Do you see the wrinkles in my forehead?"

"That's just from squinting that things."

"Sure, just dismiss my self-consciousness."

"More worried about your beauty being tainted than being able to move furniture?"

"I can do that with just one arm and a Steve."

She finally laughed at that. "I guess so. Sam would help you too, being so enamoured with Steve and all."

He snorted. "Probably."

Her face fell serious again. "So, would you want me to replace your arm?"

"I mean, if you really want to. You're busy enough without extra work. You let me watch you work, remember?"

"I'm aware." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about that. I'm asking  _you_ , not about your opinion of  _me._ "

He glanced down at the stump, covered by the black rubber sheath. He winced. "I don't know what you'll find in there. I always hurt just to move it, so I can't imagine it's anything good that they did."

She frowned, sympathetic. "Who do you think does all the work for my Reactor? I'll take care of you, if you want me to replace your arm. If not, we'll leave it as is and move on."

"No, no, don't misunderstand . . . I want you to- to-" He took a deep breath, "I would like you to replace it. Please."

"Okay. I'll do it in a couple of days, maybe next week even. I've gotta get everything set up for a biopsy, then a possible immediate surgery."

He caught her gaze. "I trust you, Tony."

* * *

Shirtless on a cool metal table, Bucky was tense and a little stiff. Too many bad memories were associated with moments like these. 

"I wanted to put you under anesthesia, but I understand if you'd rather not be drugged up."

He looked over at her and down at his shoulder with a wince. "It's going to be painful, right?"

She nodded. 

"It's probably best to put me under. I don't particularly want to, but some things just have to happen. I don't . . . I'd rather go under than accidentally hurt you."

She didn't pester him, for which he was grateful, and just readied the IV. 

"Okay, so here's what's going to happen." She started, taping his arm and inserting the shunt. "I'm going to pull apart the mess left of your shoulder. From there, I'll remove all the rotting flesh and/or damaged nerves and replace them with a control socket. The control socket, essentially, will cover over your shoulder and what's left of your arm, connecting to the remaining nerves so you can control your new arm. It will also act as a base plate so that if something happens to your arm again, we can replace it without having to do this. Sound like a pretty solid plan?"

"Yeah."

"Last little question - are you sure?"

He swallowed thickly, taking a deep, controlled breath. "Yeah. Go for it."

"Gotcha." She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "Just so you know, there are stories of people staying awake through the anesthesia, so I've also mixed in a sleeping agent just to make sure you're unconscious for it all. Okay?"

"Yeah."

She puffed a breath and squared her shoulders. "Okay." She attached the IV. "Do you want me to get Steve?"

"Nah." He gave a rueful smile. "It'll be a nice surprise."

She nodded, perching on the edge of the table. "I'll be right until you go under and I'll be right there when you come awake, okay? I promise."

"I know you will, Tony." He got more comfortable and closed his eyes, willing his body to accept the drugs. "I know."

* * *

He knew he wouldn't wake up feeling groggy, like she warned him he might, but the strange feeling of extensive exhaustion mixed with calm rest was something he didn't ever think a human could experience.

"Bucky?"

He had to blink back the blinding mid-evening dimming light to find Steve standing there, brows pinched in that worried way he had constantly now. 

"My right arm feels heavy. Did she strap me down?"

"No."

He groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking down at the sleepy murmur and loss of warmth. She was laying there curled around his flesh forearm, fast asleep.

"How long did it take?"

"The two of you vanished for five days." Steve said, worry lines increasing. "No one knew where you went and JARVIS locked us out. Only today, when Nat told Pepper and she marched in with override codes did we find the two of you down here, with her passed out on top of you. That's not even to mention the new arm." 

Oh yeah. Speaking of . . . 

The flaming orange of the setting sun had lit the shimmering metal ablaze, his shoulder to his fingertips reflecting the beautiful shine. The plates lifted and repositioned so smoothly and nearly soundlessly as he flexed, the balance a perfect mirror that actually threw him off. Little blue lights marked emergency manual detactment points, but were dull and unobtrusive. The arm had never been responsive like his flesh one, but this one was fluid and only fractions slower, so much that he only noticed because he was looking. Its strength, too, would be much more impressive than his previous one. In his amazement, he failed to notice the pain had not returned. 

"She's amazing." He breathed, grinning and looking up at Steve. "Isn't she? Look at this - its so perfect."

Steve looked away. He had nothing to say in the face of that smile, not even the well-deserved lecture.

Tony shifted, blearily glancing around, catching on the arm and immediately waking fully. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

Bucky's smile was so soft, so tender-

"You kept your promise, doll."

She met his gaze for a moment and Steve felt like he was intruding. "I wasn't awake, though."

"I can tell just be looking at you that you haven't been outside the lab." A thought occurred to him and he wrinkled his nose. "I probably smell like five-day-old supersoldier."

"Metal and solder." Steve interjected. "That's what you smell like."

Bucky cracked a wry grin. "So I smell like Tony, do I?"

"Hey! I can smell good when I want to." She pouted.

"I didn't say I disliked it." Bucky retorted and Steve had to go.

* * *

Sam thought it was a weird sight. Steve, beside him, had no words to make sense of the situation either. 

"Dude kills her parents and she's getting tickled." Sam shook his head. 

Tony shrieked as Bucky upped his assault, catching her under the armpits and making her writhe, laughing breathlessly. The smug smile on his face was so  _Bucky_  it hurt. That was the smile Steve had risked life, limb and friend for and it was because of Tony it came back to life. 

"I can't imagine that metal arm is comfortable either." Sam commentated, sipping his coffee. 

"Stop! Stop!" Tony cried, tears streaming down her face as she pushed weakly at him. Bucky only giggled back in reponse, pulling back just enough so that she would think he stopped before throwing her over his metal shoulder. She landed with an  _oophf_ , what little air she had rushing out of her.

"What do you think runs through her head sometimes?" Sam wondered. "I'd like to know. I'm curious."

"I don't think she planned this."

"Stark? She probably planned it."

"Sir is very careful of her emotions." Vision appeared to their left, making Sam jump. "For all her promiscuity, she has only had two long-term partners, one of which was Miss Potts."

"Really?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "I find that really hard to believe."

"Miss Potts and Tiberius Stone. Ask after their names." Vision floated through the floor.

"I will never get used to him doin' that." Sam muttered.

"Bucky! No! Put me down!"

"Nope." That smile, the one that charmed all the dames. "We're going to eat a proper dinner whether you like it or not."

"I'm not even dressed!"

"You always look good." He groused, pinching her inner thigh. "Don't even lie."

"I'm covered in grease. Can you not let me shower first?"

"Not a chance."

She blew some hair out of her face. "Even if I let you in with me?"

He paused, genuinely considering it. "How far in?"

"In the shower?"

That beautiful smile twisted to something the slightest bit more sinister, darker. "Last chance to rescind that offer."

"Why?"

Bucky took off and Tony yelped, clinging tightly to his waistline.

* * *

"So," Steve started, glancing over at him from the stove, "is this a thing now?"

He looked up at the blonde, cocking his head. "Is what a thing?"

"You and Tony."

He kept staring, sitting up a little straighter. "Problem, Rogers?"

"No, of course not. I just want to see you happy. I want to know if she makes you happy. No need for a front with me."

That horrified noise must have come from him. "A front? What in God's name would I need a front for?"

"We all have a reason to be grateful to Tony-"

"I love her, you fucking moron!"

"A little louder. I didn't hear you the first time."

Both Bucky and Steve froze, Bucky going white then red in short order. Tony was leaning against the fridge casually, but her gaze was anyhing but.

"Uh-"

"C'mon. Once more for the kids in the back." She teased, smiling brilliantly before sashaying around the counter to kiss Bucky solidly on the lips. Steve looked away in embarrassment. 

"Tony-"

"You and I will discuss specifics of this kater on tonight." She shushed, kissing his forehead. "As for now, I love you too."

She walked right back out of the room without another word. 

"You did that, didn't you, JARVIS?" Bucky breathlessly asked the ceiling.

_"Indeed, Sergeant."_

Dazed, he stood up from the barstool he was perched on, leaving behind Steve and breakfast. "Thanks, buddy."

"Wait, where are you going?" Steve called. 

"I've got me a girl who needs kissin'." Bucky's grin was cheshire wide before he disappeared into the elevator.

 


End file.
